


The Sun Won't Shine if You're Not Looking

by somethingnerdythiswaycomes



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Elementary School Teacher, Alternate Universe - Not Hockey Player(s), Best Friends, Best Friends Forever, Blended family, Fluff, Get together fic, Humor, Introspection, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Post-Break Up, Teacher!Holtby, They Still Live in DC Though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-07-20 06:52:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16131941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingnerdythiswaycomes/pseuds/somethingnerdythiswaycomes
Summary: “I haven’t seen you around before,” Braden said, trying for nonchalant. He saw a glimmer of humor in the man’s eyes and realized that ship sailed the moment he opened his mouth.“Just moved to the area,” he replied.He knew there was nothing strange about finding a stranger attractive – he just normally didn’t, and he definitely didn’t get tongue-tied or lose his train of thought. So this was unexpected.Or: Braden’s a first-grade teacher, and the only thing he can’t teach is how to find love.





	1. I've Got High Hopes, Baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [breaker10_4](https://archiveofourown.org/users/breaker10_4/gifts).



> What a thrilling ride this has been. Thank you to breaker10_4 for some truly inspired prompts and pairings. I never thought I would be sitting down to write some Holtby/Beagle, but here we are, and here it is. I went a little bit overboard possibly (they say, 10 chapters later), but I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> In typical form, they still live in DC, all the places mentioned are real and mostly accurate, but I don't represent any of them, nor do I represent any of the real people portrayed as fictional characters.
> 
> Story title/chapter titles from "Cameo Lover" by Kimbra

Ah, the smell of magic marker in the morning.

Braden worked his way down the 1-H class roster, carefully printing the new students’ names on their name cards for their cubbies and then their desks.  They’d get the chance to design their own, and practice writing their name, at the end of the second week.

Then came the sheets of little name tags for the playtime chart, and the chore board, and the reading log, and a few more to run through the laminator when the first set inevitably went missing.

When Braden first got this job teaching 1st grade, he hated the idea of coming in a couple days earlier than the students.  He knew why it mattered, of course, but hadn’t thought he’d enjoy it.

Six years later, and it’s almost as good as the rest of the school year.

“Braden,” someone called from the door to the classroom. Braden looked over from the rainbow star border he was stapling around the Today’s Weather board.

“Hey, man,” he replied, meeting Andre halfway through the room in a hug.  Andre was sporting a considerably darker tan than he’d had at the end of school in June, no doubt thanks to working at a summer camp, and definitely not helped by spending his weekends on the lake with his husband.  Braden had tanned a little, too, but at least he stayed in the trees during most of his hikes.

“You just starting to set up now?” Andre asked, looking around the half-ready classroom.

“You know,” Braden shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Everything’s ready, it just needs to go up. And all the important things are ready to go.”

“You should just have the kids put it together.”

“That works in 5th grade, Andre, not really with 6 year olds.”

“Just give ‘em a ladder, right?”

Braden snorted and went back over to his desk, still strewn with multi-colored felt scraps, from cutting out the clouds, rain, snow, and sun. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound dangerous at all.”

Andre just laughed and leaned against the as-of-yet unadorned wall next to the cubbies.  “So, before the school year starts for real – double date tonight? Plenty of time to get over a hangover before the kiddies get in on Wednesday.”

Braden didn’t look up, focusing on cutting out another, better pair of felt sunglasses for the felt sun.

“There’s apparently this new thai place down the street from Brooks’s crossfit gym.” Andre rolled his eyes. “But the menu looks pretty good, and it’s got some good reviews. Check with Phillipp and see if he’s around. If he’s not, you can play third wheel.”

“He’s not around,” Braden replied.

“Aww, look at that, didn’t even need to check, first grade boyfriends so in sync,” Andre cooed. “Well, we can still eat—”

“No, I mean, he’s not around,” Braden repeated. He clenched his hands around the safety scissors, until he decided holding something even somewhat sharp wasn’t the best idea. “We broke up. He moved out of the neighborhood. He’s teaching at Visitation now, I think.  Tom’s doing the other first grade this year.”

“Oh,” Andre murmured, rushing over to Braden and curling his arms around Braden’s shoulders. “I’m sorry.  When did it happen?”

“In the middle of our fuc-fudging Appalachian hike.”

“That _really_ sucks.” Andre pet his head gently for a second. “Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve brought you out to the lake with us. Find you a hot new lifeguard boyfriend.”

Braden rolled his eyes, but he didn’t try to move away from Andre’s touch. “I don’t know. You were enjoying the summer. Didn’t want to bring everything down.”

“Don’t worry, Braden, you can never bring me down.”

“I’m not sure how much of a compliment that is, but thanks.”

Andre just hummed, pushing some of the now-messy strands of Braden’s hair off his forehead. “You know you can tell me when you need some help, right?”

Braden glanced around the classroom. “I’m not that far behind on setup, Andre.”

Andre flicked him in the forehead. “You know what I mean. You were my best man at my wedding, Braden. Brooks and I already decided you’ll be our kid’s godfather if we decide to have one.”

“I thought I was your weird dog’s godfather.”

“Yes, you are.” Andre put his hands on Braden’s shoulders, holding him steady at arm’s length. “My point is, we’re friends. Friends are supposed to help you through breakups. Didn’t you help me when I thought Brooks was interested in the new art teacher, and when Brooks and I had that fight about the new couch and I stayed with you for a couple nights?”

“Yes,” Braden grunted. “I get it.” He closed his eyes tight and let out a sigh. “I’m upset about Philipp breaking up with me. I thought our relationship was going well, but apparently it wasn’t. We can talk about this more when we go to dinner with Brooks instead of spilling my guts in my classroom.”

“Okay,” Andre conceded. “But change of plans – I’ll tell Brooks he’s on his own, and you and me go to the bar tonight. Flaming cheese on me.”

“Okay,” Braden muttered. “Four o’clock?

“Yeah.” Andre squeezed him one last time and let go.  “Just think about how many awful stuck up children and awful stuck up parents Philipp’s going to have to deal with over at Visitation.”

Braden cracked a smile. “Yeah. They’re awful there.”

Andre nodded and gave Braden one last look before scooting back out the door, probably heading down to the gym to change his plans with Brooks. Braden let his smile drop, and turned back to his felt and his scissors.

Maybe he should staple more things to the wall, instead, to get some of this restless energy out.


	2. If You're Not Looking

If there was one thing Braden was pathetically grateful for, it was half priced wine bottles on Monday nights.  That, and flaming cheese, subsidized by one Andre Burakovsky.

Braden washed down the last chunk of cheese and baguette with a sip of his chardonnay and closed his eyes.  Next to him, Andre was chatting with Dmitry, the bartender, about the Nationals’ chances this season.

Someone settled in the other side of Braden at the bar. He didn’t bother looking over, still half-listening to his friends talk about Harper’s latest homerun and how the division was shaping up. Finally, Dmitry seemed to realize someone had sat down at the bar, and nodded over Braden’s head.

“Something to drink?” He called over the music.

“Fresh Squeezed?”

Dmitry grinned and nodded, stepping over to the taps to pull a pint for him.

When the glass landed on the bar, Braden finally glanced over at the newcomer.  He hadn’t seen him before, which is slightly unusual. This bar mostly attracted people in the neighborhood, either living or working, and everyone tended to go to the same bar whenever they went out, be it this one or any of the others down the street. Usually, new people sat at a table, if they were coming in for the food.

“Hey,” the guy said, flashing a smile at Braden.  He had short brown hair, a little bit longer on the top, and disheveled.  Friendly eyes, a little bit of scruff on his chin that grew into a thicker mustache.

“Hey,” Braden replied, probably a little bit too late.

He knew there was nothing strange about finding a stranger attractive – he just normally didn’t. It had taken a few solid months of working with Philipp before Braden had clued in that Philipp was interested in dating him, and even then it had taken Philipp actually saying it and Braden warming up to the idea before they got anywhere.  Even when he’d been most attracted to Philipp, he’d never lost his train of thought or gotten tounge-tied.

So this was unexpected.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” Braden said, trying for nonchalant. He saw a glimmer of humor in the man’s eyes and realized that ship sailed the moment he opened his mouth.

“Just moved to the area,” he replied.

“I’m Braden.” He held out his hand, cursing himself for not starting with that. His mom would be ashamed, interrogating someone before even offering his name.

“Jay.” And Jay shook his hand, calloused palm tight against his, rough, thick fingers holding his. Braden’s hands were softer, he knew, with a couple of embarrassing callouses from markers in the classroom and a couple less-embarrassing ones from coaching hockey at the high school.

“I’m down at 18th and Irving, how about you?”

“Park and 18th?” Jay replied. “We just moved in yesterday, but that sounds right.  I’m still hoping I’ll be able to find my way back later.”

“You’ll be fine,” Braden assured him. “The streets go alphabetical going North, and the numbers increase going West, anyway, if that’s helpful.”

Jay chuckled; Braden took a hefty sip of his wine. “Probably will be.  I can find my way through the wilderness of Canada, but I can’t get through a city on my own.”

“Well that’s because Canada makes sense, and DC doesn’t,” Braden deadpanned.  “Did you have a chance to explore anything else around here yet?”

“Nope, yesterday was moving in and unpacking the necessities, and today was just trying to get settled in. I drove past the restaurants and everything on my way to Target, but that’s about it.  Lots of choices.”

“Yeah, though if you want a regular sandwich or something it’s a little tougher to find. But you can get fried chicken at the Chinese place, and hot subs at the Salvadorian place.”

“Good to know.” Jay grinned, and it felt like he actually meant it. “Any good coffee?”

“7-eleven is surprisingly not bad,” Braden answered diplomatically, “The best is just at the corner here, but they’ve got some weird hours.”

Jay leaned a little closer, his fingers tapping against his pint glass. “You know a lot about this neighborhood.”

Braden shrugged, shifting a little closer as well. “Yeah, I’ve lived here for a while, and I work here, too. No reason to go anywhere else most of the time. Besides, it really is a neighborhood here – everyone knows everyone else, it’s nice to go to the bar and know the bartender, and know you’ll run into a friend or two.”

Jay smiled softly. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“And,” Braden started, then took a hopefully-discreet fortifying inhale, “I’d be happy to take you to dinner at one of them, show you some of the highlights of the neighborhood.”

Jay’s smile exploded into a grin, leaning an extra inch closer. “I’d like that. I’m pretty busy unpacking right now, but maybe by the weekend?”

Braden pulled a receipt out of his pocket and grabbed a pen off the bar and quickly wrote his number down. “Just text me. I have weekends off, anyway.” He paused as Jay took the slip of paper, the tips of his fingers brushing against Braden’s. “What is it you do?”

“Consulting for the government.”

“So CIA?”

Jay burst out into laughter, his hand banging against the bar top. “Unfortunately not,” he said after he had faded into chuckling.

“I think you’d have to say that even if I was right.”

“Probably.” Jay relaxed back in his chair, one of his legs slipping out and settling a couple inches from Braden’s. “But I mostly work with the State department.”

“Oh.” Braden blinked. “I’m a teacher.”

“That’s cool,” Jay said. “What grade?”

“I’m certified K-5, but—”

“Braden why did you abandon me?” Andre whined, flinging his arms around Braden’s neck from behind.

“I didn’t abandon you,” Braden grunted. “I’m talking to Jay – he’s new to the neighborhood.”

“Awesome!” Andre exclaimed, grinning over at Jay. “I live at 19th and Kenyon, where are you?”

“18th and Park, most likely. Does everyone introduce themselves with what intersection they live near?”

“It’s the easiest way to figure out where someone is and who your neighbors are,” Braden explained. “Also, it’s a good way to weed out non-neighborhood people.”

“Is this a mafia situation?”

“Yes,” Andre said brightly. “Anyone we don’t like, we break their kneecaps and drop them in Rock Creek.”

“He’s joking,” Braden added, at the wary look on Jay’s face. “It’s not anyone _we_ don’t like, it has to be a supermajority of everyone in the neighborhood.”

“That’s reassuring,” Jay replied with a grin. “But I feel like my chances wouldn’t have been too bad if it was just you deciding.”

Braden blushed, and hoped desperately that his beard would hide it.  God, when was the last time he _blushed_?

“Anyway,” Jay continued. “What grade did you say you teach?”

“I teach 5th!” Andre answered, and at this point Braden couldn’t tell if he actually thought the question was aimed at him or not. “Me and Braden both teach a couple blocks away, at Bancroft Elementary!”

“I teach 1st,” Braden finally replied.

Jay grinned. “That’s great! That’s what grade my son is in – maybe he’ll have you for a teacher.”

Braden could’ve sworn the wood paneling of the bar started spinning. He couldn’t hear the DJ anymore, he couldn’t even feel Andre hanging off of him.

Jay drained the last sip of his beer and flagged Dmitry down from his conversation with Evgeny at the end of the bar. “I should probably get home before they send out a search party. Lars knows I can’t find my own ass on a city street.”

Braden barely pulled himself together to make idle conversation as Jay got his check and wave goodbye as he left.  All he could think about was that he could be teaching Jay’s _son_ – Jay had to be dating someone, this _Lars_ guy, which meant he was gay but still unavailable if he hadn’t been the father of a student– _Oh my God he just hit on the parent of one of his students and gave him his number and offered to take him to dinner and he was DATING someone oh my GOD_.

“Damn, guess he’s dating someone,” Andre hummed. “I thought you had a good chance there.”

“So did I,” Braden replied faintly, crossing his arms on the bar and dropping his forehead onto them. He heard Andre pouring him another glass of wine, and then a reassuring pat on the back of his head.

“There will be others,” Andre told him sagely.

“Just because you had some fairytale meet-cute at the farmers market doesn’t mean we all get that,” Braden muttered.

“You won’t know until you go to more farmers markets.”

Braden tried to ignore how wise that statement was – too wise to be coming from _Andre_ of all people – and the best way to do that was downing the glass of wine in front of him.


	3. Like a Silhouette in Dreams

Not even the prospect of having Jay’s son in his class could dim the happiness of the first day of school.  All the bulletin boards were up, desks arranged into their clumps, and tennis balls on the chairs. Braden had trimmed his beard the night before, and pushed his hair back off his face so he wouldn’t scare any of the parents into thinking he couldn’t take care of their children.

The first part of the morning passed quickly, as students began arriving. The first day, especially in 1st grade, was a little lax on punctuality, with students arriving between 8 and 9. It gave Braden a chance to introduce himself to the parents and the children one at a time, and show each of them their cubbies and their desks.  He could tell which students were nervous, which ones were excited, and which ones really, really wished this day had never come. But they all settled in easily enough, sitting at their desks and chatting with the other children in their clumps. They were all actually at their desks, too, not wandering aimlessly around the room, so Braden had high hopes for this year.

There was only one student that hadn’t arrived yet – Pheonix. At 8:55, finally, a little boy opened the door, calling over his shoulder, “See, Dad, I _told_ you the lady said it was around the corner.”

“Good job,” Pheonix’s dad replied, and – _dear God no –_

Jay appeared in the doorway behind Pheonix, a hand landing on the boy’s shoulder.

“Hey!” he said, waving at Braden. “I wasn’t sure if you were Mr. Holtby or not, but I’m glad you are!”

“Hello,” Braden replied, trying to keep his smile professional instead of too happy or too disappointed. How could something be both the best and the worst possible outcome?  “And this must be Pheonix.”

“Hi, Mr. Holtby,” Pheonix said, holding out his hand to shake. Braden smiled at him and took it.

“We’ll have some flyers and forms going home with Pheonix today for you to take a look at,” Braden told Jay. “Is there anything around the room I can show you?”

Jay took a look around the room – at the felt weather board, the popsicle stick chore sheet, the pom poms for free play, the reading nook, the carefully posted posters about bullying and homonyms.

“I know my boy’s in good hands,” Jay said, ruffling Pheonix’s hair. “I can tell you put a lot of work into the room.”

“Yeah,” Braden replied, a little surprised. “The kids deserve the best.”

“I’ll let you get to it.” Jay gave him a slightly confused smile, then knelt down next to Pheonix, holding his arms out for a hug that Pheonix immediately gave him. “Your daddy and I are very proud of you,” he said quietly. “Just do your best to make some friends, okay?”

“I will,” Pheonix answered seriously. Jay chuckled and pulled back, tugging Pheonix’s polo shirt into place.

“And I’ll come pick you up at the end of the day.”

“Okay, but let me get us home.”

“Deal,” Jay said.  “Have a nice first day of school, bud.”

“Bye,” Pheonix replied, turning back to Braden with a grin. “I’m ready!”

Braden smiled down at him. “Good to hear. So first are the cubbies…”

The morning flew by, creating classroom guidelines with the children, going over their weekly schedule and all the activities they got to do outside of the classroom. Before he knew it, it was time for lunch, and he was walking to kids down to the cafeteria and handing them off to the lunch monitor.

He met Tom on the way back from dropping off their kids.

“These kids are not joking around with that energy,” Tom huffed, running a hand through his hair.  It was perfectly styled, of course, and messing it up just made him look artfully disheveled.  “I never realized how much two years of school can mellow them out.”

“Third graders can’t be that different.”

“They are! You know how fast kids develop.”

Braden snorted. “Yeah, yeah. My kids are pretty well-behaved so far. I just hope it stays that way, and it’s not just because I’m a new adult to them.”

“Everyone knows the kids like to behave for Mr. Holtby. You got some weird Zen energy.”

“Tell that to last year’s class.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “Grab your lunch and come into my room. I’ve got to sort through some workbooks for the afternoon.”

“The first day should always have playtime first thing in the afternoon,” Braden told him. “You can get through it all then.”

“Yeah, okay, okay, whatever. Then you don’t have any prep to do and you can mock me while I do mine.”

Braden shrugged and grabbed his lunch, going back into Tom’s classroom. It’s a similar setup to Braden’s, with the desks in groups of five instead of four, the cubbies covered in brand-new backpacks and jackets, and books in the reading nook already disorganized.

“Free time in the morning?” Braden observed.

“Yeah, getting them to make friends. We’re going to do a more structured icebreaker around 1, but I wanted to see who naturally gravitates together.”

“Hmm. I usually do ice breakers first. Maybe I’ll change that for next time.”

“It depends on how shy your class is, I think.” Tom hefted a stack of phonics workbooks and a thicker stack of math workbooks onto his desk. “Also, I needed to get some of that energy out. I’m hoping they’ll quiet down enough for a nap today.”

“At least tomorrow’s gym,” Braden said, looking at the specials schedule Tom has on the wall. “In the morning both times, that’ll work out well for you.”

“Yeah, thank God.”

Braden sat down in the tiny chair in front of Tom’s desk, designed for a student not a man in his late twenties, and dug into the turkey sandwich he brought for lunch. “Do you need help with anything?”

“No, I’m fine,” Tom replied. “Just strange adjusting to a different age group. I’ll be great in a day or two.”

“Yeah, you’ll be good,” Braden said. They don’t really ever mention it, but Andre and Tom are still new enough, and apparently think Braden is experienced enough, that they want his reassurance on things like this.  But Braden hasn’t worried about sharing a grade with Tom since he found out he would be, so he won’t start now.

“Andre told me you met someone,” Tom mentioned a couple minutes later, as he carefully writes students’ names into the workbooks. Too carefully.

Braden sighed. “It’s nothing.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not _nothing_ , we both know Andre isn’t exactly the gossip queen around here.”

That’s true – Alex is unequivocally the leading voice in gossip at Bancroft, even though that isn’t really what a principal should be known for.

“It won’t be anything,” Braden amended. “His son’s in my class, and he’s. Living with someone.”

“Ouch,” Tom hissed. “You can’t catch a break, can you?”

“Nothing happened, at least,” Braden sighed. “And now nothing will. It’s a non-issue.”

“Sure,” Tom said agreeably. “I don’t know, though. I have a feeling.  Something’s going to work out for you soon.”

“If you say so.” Braden finished his sandwich and closed up his lunch bag. “I should get a start on putting together the forms and everything for the parents. I’ll see you after school?”

“Yeah, sure,” Tom said, frowning at him. “See you after.”

Braden finished his lunch in his classroom, playing solitaire on his phone. At 11:55 he went down to the cafeteria and picked up his class. He circled them up for a story, stuffed folders during naptime, started in on their first spelling lesson (their names and their families’ names), and stuffed more folders during free play.

He brought the kids down to the gym for dismissal, lining up next to Tom’s class. His class sat perfectly in their row on the gym floor, while Tom’s kept crawling around and trying to get into other lines; maybe they should start asking parents about the energy level of their kids before sorting them into classes so they could get a more even mix.

Once all of the bus riders were pulled away to get into those lines, Braden and Tom led their severely pared down lines out together.  It was easier to keep track of 10 to 40 five-and-six-year-olds when there were another set of eyes with you.

As the pickup line inched forward and more and more parents walked up to the school to collect their children, their numbers dwindled until there were just two from Tom’s class (Chandler and Madison) and Pheonix from Braden’s still waiting for their parents.

A woman in a pencil skirt with long, flowing black hair came up and scooped Chandler into her arms, planting kisses on his cheeks while he protested loudly.

“You’re also taking Madison home, right, Ms. Stephenson?”

“That’s right,” she said with a smile. “My husband should be getting them tomorrow, but he already knows the process.”

“Great, enjoy the rest of your day, guys!” Tom gave the two boys a high five, and waved as they started back down the street.

“I think Dad got lost again,” Pheonix said from Braden’s side. Braden looked down at him; he didn’t look bothered by it, which was something. Some kids got upset when they were the last one.

“That’s okay. I’m sure he’ll figure out how to get to the school soon enough.”

Pheonix squinted up at him. “Could we play chopsticks will we wait?”

“As long as you teach me the rules.”

Luckily, it wasn’t that difficult, and a couple minutes later they were both sitting on a bench in front of the school tapping their fingers together.  It was sunny out, at least, warm but not too hot, a light breeze blowing through the trees.

That was how Jay found them, about five minutes later.  He hurried up, almost out of breath, suit on with his tie clenched in his hand.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, reaching down to ruffle Pheonix’s hair.

“You got lost?” Pheonix asked him, grinning.

“Yeah,” Jay sighed.

“I’ll make you a map when we get home,” Pheonix promised jumping off of the bench while Jay grabbed his backpack and swung it over his shoulder.

“Thank you for playing with me, Mr. Holtby!”

“It was no problem, Pheonix,” Braden replied, shaking the hand that Pheonix held out to him. “Maybe next time I’ll be able to beat you.”

“Maybe,” Pheonix replied cheerfully.

“Thank you for staying,” Jay said, dropping his hand on Pheonix’s head. “I should be on time tomorrow.”

“You weren’t that late,” Braden assured him, then quickly turned back to Pheonix. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Mr. Holtby!” Pheonix called as they started walking away.

Braden watched them go, and sighed. It was going to be a long year.


	4. Leaving Pieces Behind You

Braden was a little embarrassed that he hadn’t been back to Marx Café since he met Jay there. But only a little. Marx Café was closer to work, sure, but it was further from his house, so it made sense that he would also go to the Raven.  They didn’t have flaming cheese, sure, but the drinks were just as… fine.

Andre, at least, hadn’t made fun of him to his face for it yet, and they were almost two weeks in to this, so he figured he had another week or so before he had to face Dmitry and John and explain himself.

“You can’t just try to avoid him,” Andre said, dropping a red disc in their game of Connect Four. They’d only been here 45 minutes and they were already on their fifth game, and Braden was on his way to his fifth loss. “You see him twice a day.”

“Once a day, if he goes through the carpool.”

Andre rolled his eyes. “Okay. Once a day. You could, like, just try being his friend?”

Braden thought for a moment, pretending he was focusing very hard on his next move.  He could see the trap Andre had set for him, so there wasn’t really a choice in where he went, but… bring friends with Jay. Running into him at the bar, maybe going on a group dinner with Andre and Brooks and Jay’s partner (Lars?). Playing each other at ping pong at the annual block party, chatting at the farmer’s market. It’d be like exposure therapy, probably, where he’d see him enough that it would stop hurting.

Which – also – he’d known this guy less than a month. He shouldn’t be feeling much of _anything_ for him.

“Would you have been able to just be friends with Brooks?” Braden asked, and played his disc.

“We were, though,” Andre replied, and quickly finished their game. 5-0 Andre.

Braden paused before pulling the lever to release their discs. “What.”

“Yeah, for the first year while I was student teaching. We weren’t dating.”

Braden blinked. “ _What_.”

Andre laughed, twisting his wedding band around his finger. “Yeah, I know. But it was against the rules, and even though we both knew we liked each other, we had to wait. And it was worth it. It was also nice to get to know him without having to worry about sex or anything like that, and who knows? Maybe we would have found out we weren’t compatible as friends, much less anything else. At first I just kind of thought he was hot, you know, because he’s _really hot_. But when I placed him in that ‘no sexual thoughts allowed’ bucket, it was easier to relax around him and get to know him. And, it turns out, not so difficult to move him back over to the ‘fantasize about him naked’ bucket.”

Braden reset their game. “Huh.”

Andre sighed happily, resting his chin on his palm, the side of his face highlighted in pink and green by the neon lights next to their booth. “And we kept in touch during summer break, and the next year when I came back for setup days, he came by my room and asked if I wanted to get dinner with him.”

Braden frowned, mentally cross-referencing the dates. “Didn’t you get married that next summer?”

“Yeah. It felt like we’d been together for so much longer than a year, and it was just… the right time. Also, it would be easier if one of us had to change schools or districts for the other one to move, too, if we were married.”

“Sure,” Braden said, since he had no idea. Even though he had dated Philipp for close to three years, they’d never talked about moving in together, or getting married, or even what would happen if one of them was transferred to a different school.  He kept a spare set of clothes at Philipp’s probably, but that was it. Philipp didn’t even have a key to his place, even though he stayed over a night or two a week. He’d told himself that different couples move at different paces, but…

“Anyway,” Andre announced, dropping in his last disc and winning another game. “Becoming friends with him is one thing, and finding someone else to date is something else. So. What dating apps are you on?”

“Maybe it’s just too soon,” Braden groaned, releasing the discs from the Connect Four board. “Philipp and I broke up three months ago. Isn’t there some rule about how long you should wait after you get out of a relationship?”

“It’s whatever is right for you,” Andre responded diplomatically. “Maybe you just need to go on a low-stakes date with someone who’s cute and interesting, but not your perfect match, to get back into the swing of it. It’s like job interviews. You need to find your rhythm.”

“Great, an analogy that makes dating sound even _less_ appealing.”

Andre rolled his eyes. “Or we go to karaoke or musical sing a long or something and let guys hit on you until you pick one.”

“You know I can’t sing.”

“That’s not the point and you know it.” Andre huffed. “If you don’t want to date anyone, then just say so!”

“I don’t want to date anyone.”

“You’re impossible,” Andre groaned, sweeping his arm out and nearly knocking over the Connect Four board and the four empty shot glasses. “Why do I even bother trying to help you?”

“I didn’t ask you to help me, Andre,” Braden snapped. “Maybe I’m just not cut out for this okay? The first person I’m interested in since the beginning of college dumps me for not being ‘invested in our relationship’ while we’re on a fucking three-week hike, and the second person is already committed to someone else with a goddamn _kid._ At this point I should just take the hint and leave the romantic bliss and everything to you and Brooks and everyone else.”

Braden clenched his jaw and looked away, but not before he saw the anger drain out of Andre, leaving only sympathy and, the worst of all, pity.

“Braden,” Andre said softly.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Braden ground out, shoving his phone in his pocket and sliding out of the booth. “See you at school.”

His apartment was cold and dark and quiet when he got home.  He shucked off his clothes and fell into bed without turning on any of the lights.


	5. And Turn to Your Brother

Braden was pathetically grateful for the annual Bancroft Staff Happy Hour. He still hadn’t figured out how to apologize to Andre, because he knew he should, even if he hadn’t actually yelled at him, and even if Andre would never ask him to. He couldn’t go to Marx without thinking about running into Jay (and maybe even Lars) and he couldn’t go to the Raven because Andre would be lying in wait, ready to _pity him_.

And drinking at home, alone, because he was too scared to run into an attractive parent of a student or his _goddamn best friend_ was just pathetic. He hadn’t reached that point yet, but he was getting close.

Also, Braden could see some of the teachers he hadn’t run into since the year started, which was nice.

“Mike’s having a great time in China, of course,” Tom said, taking another sip of his beer. “He keeps telling me I should move over there, too, and teach English with him. Apparently the cost of living is low enough that he’s making bigger payments on his loans? I don’t know.”

“Do either of you even speak Chinese?” Braden asked. Mike and Tom definitely didn’t _look_ like the kind of people that would know Chinese.

“Not a word.” Tom laughed. “Actually, wait – _Konnichiwa.”_

“That’s Japanese. It’s _Ni Hao._ ”

“Wait, do _you_ speak Chinese?”

“No, I’m just not an idiot.”

Tom burst out laughing. “Harsh, Braden, but fair.” He took a sip of beer.  “I’m a little surprised he hasn’t gotten poisoned yet.”

“Mmhmm.” Braden drained the last of his cocktail. “Are you going out to visit soon?”

“It’s tough in the fall,” Tom sighed. “We don’t have all those nice long breaks like we do in the spring. I’m hoping to go for Thanksgiving break, it just depends on ticket prices. Christmas will be tough, but it’s longer, so I might skip Thanksgiving and save the money to go for Christmas instead.”  He shook his head and swirled his beer in the pint glass, furrowing his brow. “Long distance is tough.”

Braden nodded, like he knew what that felt like. How did he wind up with all these friends in steady, committed relationships?

Tom stepped away a moment later to moan about his long-distance relationship to someone else, and Braden looked up at the string lights and multi-colored paper lanterns while he contemplated another drink. Of course, in this moment of weakness, is when Alex and Nicklas quickly swooped in on him.

“How’re the hellspawn doing?” Braden asked Nicklas, forestalling any questions or comments about Philipp breaking up with him.

Nicklas just gave him a flat look. “Only one fire so far, and no knives. Off to a good start.”

Braden winced; Nicklas was the principal of the middle school a couple streets over, which required nerves of steel and the ability to inspire fear in the hearts of fearless demons. The rate of illegal incidents had improved under his lead, at least, and Braden no longer felt the need to go out of his way to avoid the school when he was heading to Target.

“That’s because Nicky is the best,” Alex declared, curling his arm around Nicklas’s waist. Nicklas took a healthy sip of wine.

“Luckily we haven’t had any fires or knives yet, either,” Braden replied, “But that’s probably because most of the school lacks the fine motor skills needed for either of those.”

Nicklas grinned sharply. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that.”

Alex laughed. “If this were Russia—”

“Well, thank God it’s not.”

“Braden,” Alex said, pulling a full 180 with a serious frown, reaching out to put his hand on Braden’s shoulder. “How’re you doing?”

“Good,” he responded, shrugging in a way that could be nonchalant or could be, and was, trying to get Alex’s hand off of him. It didn’t work. “Kids are great, nice and quiet, no bullies, no disruptions. A couple of them might even need the Phonics B booklet instead.”

“That’s great!” Alex beamed. Nicklas elbowed him subtly, and Alex continued: “But I meant _you_. There is more to Braden then school, yes?”

Braden thought about the comedy specials cued up on his Netflix and the half-dead plant on his window sill. “I guess.”

Alex looked at him expectantly.

“I just finished the new Great British Baking Show season?”

Nicklas clicked his tongue.

Braden sighed. “Philipp and I broke up, I need to apologize for Andre for trying to help me, and there’s someone I’m interested in but I can’t do anything about it.”

Alex squeezed his shoulder gently. “There you go, Braden. It’s okay to let it out.”

“At a work event?”

Alex flapped his free hand. “This is barely a work event. If it were, there would be no alcohol.”

“What he means,” Nicklas added, “Is that we are your coworkers, yes, but I would also consider us friends. It is okay to confide in your friends and rely on them. I’m sure Andre is upset that you were upset with him, but would not hold it against you. Because he is your friend.”

“Yeah,” Braden replied, glancing across the room at Brooks and Andre posted up by the bar. “I know.”

Alex turned him and pushed him away. “Go say sorry and drink more! Both are good things!”

Braden resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and forced his way through the clump of 2nd and 3rd grade teachers to get to Andre.

“Hey,” he said, tapping Andre on the shoulder.

Andre glanced back at him, his face set in a hesitant frown. And somehow, he still had puppy-dog-pity-eyes that Braden was so weak against.

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately, before he could chicken out or somehow shove his foot farther into his mouth. “You were trying to help, and I got defensive, but I shouldn’t have said any of that to you.”

Andre slid his wine glass onto the bar and hugged Braden tightly, surprisingly strong for being a giant marshmallow in human form. Braden fell back into the wall, almost knocking a framed print down.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Andre told him, stepping back just enough to smile at Braden. “I’m just sad you would think that way about yourself.”

“It’s fine,” Braden started, but Andre shook his head.

“It’s not fine, but we’ll work on it, okay? No more self-pitying Braden.”

“Sure,” Braden agreed.  What Andre didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, he figured, and it was probably a good idea to tone down the self-deprecating I’ll-never-find-love routine around the newly, happily-married guy.

“Tough break, man,” Brooks said, breaking into their conversation to hand Andre his glass of wine back. “The right guy’s out there for you somewhere, you just have to keep believing.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Braden replied, clapping Brooks on the shoulder.

Brooks grinned at him, sipping at his vodka tonic. “You ever want to give the gym flirt a try, let me know and I can get you a guest pass for some CrossFit. Nothing wrong with working on your body for a boyfriend.”

“Yeah, okay,” Braden said dryly. He had some muscle, sure, a little bit of definition, but Brooks’s biceps were the same size as Braden’s thigh, he was pretty sure, and most of Braden’s exercise these days came from walking to school and lifting workbooks.

He and Philipp used to go hiking on the weekends – he enjoyed it more for the views than the company, he thinks. Maybe he could go on some longer walks in Rock Creek. Maybe he should buy a bike. Maybe he should get a dog.

“Bud? You all right?” Brooks asked.

“Yeah. Fine.” Braden tried to take a sip of his drink, realized it was empty, and tried to play it off as a joke. Andre giggled a little, so he must have been minorly successful. “I’m gonna get another drink.”

Braden didn’t get too drunk, and he apologized to Andre, so he counted the evening as an unmitigated success.

Until, of course, he, Andre, and Brooks were coming out of Habit and ran right into Jay, coming down the stairs from Mola.

“Hey,” Jay said, eyes crinkling in a smile.

“Hey,” Braden replied at length, trying desperately to hide the flush the alcohol had left on his face. Shit, maybe he’d gotten drunker than he’d thought. “Just leaving dinner?”

“Yeah, we had dinner at Mola tonight. Lars stopped to talk to the host about some event coming up, hang on, he should be out in a second – “

“Sorry, I need to get home,” Braden blurted. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow? When you drop off Pheonix? Great, have a nice night.”

Andre and Brooks offered quick goodbyes as well, catching up to Braden just as he started to cross the street by the 7-eleven.

“That’s the guy,” Andre whispered to Brooks. “The one with the kid.”

“I got that, babe,” Brooks replied, his arm curling around Andre’s shoulders.

“I’m a fucking dumbass,” Braden burst out miserably.

“Two curse words, that’s not good,” Andre muttered, enveloping Braden in a hug. Braden hung onto him desperately, working at getting control of his breathing.

“It’s going to be fine,” Andre whispered into his hair. “It’ll pass. It takes time, but it’ll pass.”

“I know.”

When Braden loosened his hold, Andre separated from him and gave him a gentle smile.  They didn’t say anything else. They walked together to Kenyon and 18th and separated there, Braden walking the two blocks to his apartment while Brooks and Andre went a different way to theirs. He watered his plants, and set up his Keurig for the next day, and climbed into bed.

Braden laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, and let out a breath.

“It’s going to be fine,” he told himself, and closed his eyes to try to sleep.


	6. Like Talking in Your Sleep

Braden turned off his alarm after the second snooze with a groan, rolling over in bed and slowly opening his eyes. He’d forgotten to close the curtains last night; now light was streaming into his bedroom, as much as light can stream into an English basement. He tossed off the blankets and slid out of bed, checking the weather on his phone as he padded into the bathroom.

Light on, brush teeth, wet his comb and get his hair into something resembling a neat hairstyle. It was supposed to rain today.

On the way back to the bedroom, pop a pod into the Keurig and start it brewing. Stand in front of it waiting for the scent of French vanilla coffee to perfume the kitchen air.

“Would be nice to wake up with the coffee already going,” Braden muttered to himself. He peeked over at the stove, imagining someone cooking breakfast because they didn’t have to be at work as early as Braden did. Maybe, if Braden didn’t snooze his alarm, they could sit down together with some eggs and bacon and toast, and make plans for the evening or the weekend.

The Keurig beeped when it finished. Braden took his mug and went back into the bedroom. He put the coffee aside as he made his bed, tugging the quilt and sheets back into shape – warm on one side, where he slept, and cold on the far side of the bed.

Would be nice to have someone lying beside him all night, warming up the bed instead of the space heater he breaks out in winter. They could fall asleep cuddling, holding each other close, and spread out over the night, but never so far that Braden couldn’t reach for them and find them.

He took out some khakis and a button down from his closet, pulling them on and checking in the mirror to make sure nothing was wrinkled or stained. He grabbed a pair of boots – enough to stand up to the rain, but comfortable enough to wear all day for school – and a light coat. Picked up the coffee mug and brought it out to the foyer.

Put down the mug again so he could grab his keys and his umbrella, stuffing his wallet in the pocket of his coat. Grab a protein bar from the stack by the table lamp. Check again that he’s got his phone, his charger, and his bag’s right by the door where he left it.

“Shit, plants,” Braden muttered, going back into the kitchen and filling up a glass of water, carefully watering the succulents and spider plant in the tiny kitchen window.

Back to the front door, double-check everything again, and turn off the lights on his way out the door.

It would be nice, Braden thought as he locked the gate behind him, to have someone to come home to.

He thought about it on the walk to school, too, waving hello to some of the joggers and dog-walkers that he passed on the way. It wasn’t raining yet, which was a relief; maybe it would only rain while he was in school, and calm down again by the time he was leaving for the day. Early October did that here.

Once he reached his classroom, he put away his keys, his umbrella, his bag, and his coat again in the cubby behind his desk. His mug went on his desk, and the spelling tests he’d graded last night went into the folders in the hanging file by the window.

Kids started filtering in not much later. By this point of the year, most parents left their kids in the care of the drop-off aides and the fifth graders on the safety patrol that would lead them inside. He greeted them all as they came in, helping unzip some stubborn coats and tie sneakers that had come undone on the two minute walk from the front door to the classroom.

“Good morning, Mr. Holtby!” Pheonix chirped, bounding into the classroom. “I have something for you!”

“Morning,” Jay said, nodding and smiling at him. “Pheonix had a lot of fun with the arts and crafts last night.”

“Here!” Pheonix proudly held out a piece of bright green construction paper, covered in marker scribbles, glitter, and some other cut-out construction paper glued on. “It’s an award for being the best teacher in the history of the world!”

Braden took it gently, and once he got a closer look at it – he could see it. The glitter border, clumsy six-year-old handwriting in the middle, and a couple of fancy construction paper seals.

“And it’s on green because you said that was your favorite color!”

“Thank you very much, Pheonix,” Braden said, smiling and kneeling in front of him. “This is a great present. I can see all of the work you put into it, and I really appreciate it. I’m going to put it in my bag so I can put it up when I get home, okay?”

“Okay! Daddy can help me with my coat!”

Pheonix hopped over to his cubby, Jay trailing behind him. Braden studied the award for another moment, then slid it into a folder and carefully put it in his bag. Pheonix and Jay were just finishing up when Braden came back to the door to check for the last few students.

“Have a great day at school,” Jay told Pheonix, ruffling his hair. “I’ll be here to pick you up in the afternoon.”

“Okay!” Pheonix beamed up at him and hugged him around the waist. “Have fun at work!”

“I will,” Jay assured him. As Pheonix ran over to his desk clump, already excitedly talking about something with his friends, Jay walked back to the door to leave. “He was very insistent about the green.”

“It’s a great present,” Braden said again. “It’ll look great on my fridge.”

Jay grinned at him. “Have a nice day, Braden.”

“You, too,” Braden replied. It marveled him every day when he was able to interact normally with Jay, and treat him just like any other parent dropping off their kid.

Unbidden, his thoughts from that morning came back, with some additions – a box of children’s toys, another crate full of craft supplies and newspaper spread out on the coffee table. A step stool in the bathroom for a kid to be able to reach the sink. His old couch replaced with a pull-out, the empty shelf in the linen cabinet filled with extra blankets and sheets covered in cartoon characters. Maybe, one day, a different apartment, with a second bedroom, filled with toys and sports equipment, and…

After he dropped the kids off for their first special activity, music, Braden took out his phone instead of correcting the class’s math homework. He shot a text to Andre; it was time he at least dipped his toes in, just to see what was out there.


	7. Depths that I Never Knew

“Being brave tonight?” Brooks asked, when he joined Braden and Andre at the bar, with a squeeze to the shoulder for Braden and a quick kiss for Andre.

“I missed the hummus,” Braden sighed. “Also, half-price wine.”

“You missed my face, be honest,” Dmitry replied, grinning at him.

Braden heaved another sigh. “Everything would be so much easier if I did.”

“How much wine did he drink already?” Brooks asked, glancing at Andre.

“He’s an adult. I don’t need to watch him.”

“Babe…”

Braden pulled the bottle out of its stainless steel holder; it was still more than half-full. “I haven’t had that much. I’m just embracing my inevitably lonely 30th birthday, and every one after that.”

“Braden,” Andre said warningly.

“Right, right. I’ll find someone and I won’t be lonely. And we’ll adopt a dog and it’ll all be perfect. Positive energy.”

“You’re just selective,” Brooks told him. “Unlike Andre here, falling into the arms of any scuzzy gym teacher he runs into at a farmer’s market.”

Andre giggled and threw his arms around Brooks’s neck. “You’re just any scuzzy gym teacher. You’re at _least_ two points hotter than any other gym teacher I’ve seen.”

Brooks laughed and kissed Andre’s cheek.

“You guys are going to make me throw up,” Braden groaned. “Stop being fuckin’ cute.”

“Sorry, I don’t think Andre can do that,” Brooks replied. “Another glass, Dmitry? I’ll just take some of Andre’s.”

“If marriage means you have to share your bottles of wine I don’t want it,” Braden proclaimed. “Next I’ll have to share my hummus, too.”

“I’ve got some bad news for you there, Braden,” Andre said, before dipping a piece of pita in and taking a big bite.

Braden narrowed his eyes at him. “I’ll let you live this time, Burakovsky.”

“Anyway,” Andre said, clapping his hands. “Do you remember what we agreed on, Braden?”

“No,” Braden replied. But he did. He didn’t want to remember, but he did.

“Yes.” Andre held out his hand. “Phone, please.”

“Andre, I do not need a _Tinder account_.”

“Did you not have one before?” Brooks asked. “Even I had one, before Andre.”

“I never needed one,” Braden retorted. “I don’t need to hide behind some curated pictures and false niceties just to convince someone that spending a couple hours in my presence isn’t a hardship.”

“Busting out the big words, I think you really got to him.”

Braden tried to grab his phone back from Andre’s hands; Andre leaned back and held the phone closer to his face.

“Okay – bio. Let’s see… ‘Looking for a hiking partner who can remind me to water my plants.’ Attention-grabbing, right? Is it too pathetic?”

“No,” Brooks replied, resting his chin on Andre’s shoulder. “Put in that he’s a teacher – that’ll reel people in. And get rid of the people only looking for sex.”

“Yes, please, keep them away,” Braden muttered, downing his glass of wine.

“What other hobbies do you have, Braden? Oh – ‘Help me burn through my Netflix queue of true crime and sitcoms.” He grinned at Braden. “Lets people know you have range.”

“Okay.” Braden sat up straight, filling his glass again. “Okay, whatever. Let’s do this. It’s better to actually try, right? We need to work in that I’m vers.”

“How do you just casually work that in? Can’t you bring it up on a date?”

“I don’t want to wind up with some twinks stalking me because they think I’ll top the hell out of them. Or some super toppy top thinking I’m like… a power bottom or something.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Andre muttered, narrowing his eyes at the phone. “So… ‘open to new experiences, winky face?’”

“That sounds like I’m into kink, or like, furries.”

“Ugh, Braden, you’re the _worst_!”

“Just… I don’t know, figure it out, Andre! Maybe tie it into something else?”

“Why is this so hard,” Andre whined. “Just pick a side like the rest of us!”

“Ex _cuse_ me, Andre, most gay men are actually—”

“What the hell am I walking into?” Dmitry asked, appearing across the bar from them. “Jay, you know what’s going on?”

“I think they’re trying to get Braden on Tinder.”

The second time that Braden’s been in this bar in the last three months, and the second time he’s about to keel over and die here.  There is _no way_ that Jay just heard all of that. No way. No, no, _no way_. How could this possibly be happening again.

He slowly turned in his chair and – yes, Jay was settling in the chair next to him, a quarter-empty pint glass in front of him. He must’ve been there for a lot of it. _Shit._

“He thinks most gay men are versatile!” Andre blurted out, as if he couldn’t tell that Braden’s life was ending right here, right now. “Tell him he’s wrong!”

Jay was still looking at Braden. Braden couldn’t look away either.

“I mean, I don’t think he’s wrong,” Jay replied, his voice a low rumble. “Of the four of us, there’s one top, one bottom, and two vers’s, right?”

Braden sucked in a breath and immediately tried to hide it by taking another sip of wine, which led to a coughing fit and Andre pounding on his back in an extremely unhelpful way and Jay was _still staring at him._

“What does ‘verse’ even mean?” Dmitry asked, wrinkling his nose at them.

“It means you give it and you take it.”

“Ah, I am vers also, then! Katerina will tell you.”

Andre groaned and dropped his head to the bar. Brooks nodded slowly. “I guess that’s right…”

“‘Just like God: I giveth and I taketh,’” Jay said.

“Huh?”

Jay grinned, a slight dimple popping out in his cheek. How had Brooks never noticed the dimple before? “For your bio. A joke about being vers, right? It might make you sound a little arrogant, but it’s a pretty good joke, right?”

“Have you used that one before?” Braden asked. Jay just shrugged, still grinning. “Okay, sure. I’ll put it in. Can’t hurt, right?”

“All together it sounds pretty good,” Jay told him, his tongue peeking out to trace the seam of his lips. Braden’s thoughts promptly ground to a halt. “Just make sure you get some good pictures. That’s sure to have them ringing your phone off the hook.”

Braden shook his head, breaking out of the spell. “Yeah, sure. It wasn’t happening before, I’m sure it’s not going to be happening now.”

Jay shrugged and picked up his beer. “You never know. Some people grow into themselves. It happens with looks, why can’t it happen with personality, or social skills, or your love life?  It’ll work out when it’s supposed to work out.”

“Sure.” Braden nodded slowly and took a sip of wine. “That makes sense.”

“Taking care of a kid makes you think about these things, I guess,” Jay mused, thumb rubbing away a line of condensation on the glass. “Even without Pheonix, I know I’d be in an entirely different emotional place now than when I graduated college, and that was only eight years ago or so.”

Braden kept nodding. It makes sense – he and Philipp got together when they were both relatively young teachers, both still trying to figure out their lives in DC. They just grew apart. Their goals and their ambitions didn’t fit together as well at 28 as they did at 25, and that’s… okay. It’s better than okay, now that he’s had time to think about it, almost half a year since the breakup. Younger Braden needed someone to hang out with, to figure out what he wanted from relationships and what he could give them, and how to give it.  Older Braden gained nothing but benefits from that. The next person he dates – whoever they are, though bets are good it’s a man within 5 miles of him, according to Tinder – will benefit from it. And he’ll benefit from the people that his potential-future-boyfriend-or-whatever dated in the past, too.

“That makes sense,” he said again. “That actually… really helps. Thank you.”

“No problem, man,” Jay replied, holding out his beer for a toast. Braden gently knocked his wine glass against it. “Gotta fine-tune my wisdom sharing skills before Pheonix gets old enough to need it, right?”

Braden snorted. “That kid’s mature enough he’s gonna need it before he hits high school.”

“You’re telling me,” Jay sighed. “I swear, he takes so much after Lars. He was just like that when we were kids. Reading ahead in all the books, asking the teachers all the uncomfortable questions the other kids wouldn’t even think of.”

“Yeah, that sounds familiar.”

“I was dumb as bricks before middle school,” Jay snorted. “Memorizing has never been my strong suit, in case you couldn’t tell. But all the creative shit? That’s what I was best at. Good for theoretical situations in foreign governments, not so great for memorizing the times tables or a spelling list.”

“Yeah, I always did better getting my hands into things,” Braden said. “I couldn’t just be told something, or read it – I needed to do it, or build it, and schools weren’t always the best at that.”

“I’m glad Pheonix has you as a teacher, though. He seems to be adjusting a lot better than Lars and I thought he would, to a new school. But it was better to move now, than halfway through elementary school, or towards the end.”

“That’s definitely true,” Braden replied. He took a fortifying sip of wine. “So you and Lars have known each other a long time, huh?”

“Yeah, we met in grade school, and we’ve been best friends since then. Even with all the college and early-adulthood drama, and moving for grad school, we’ve stuck together.”

“I haven’t met Lars yet – what does he do?”

“He works down at the Pentagon.” Jay smiled a little. “He’s got much stricter hours than I do, and a longer commute, and he’s not allowed to have his phone on him or access to a personal email, so we agreed it made more sense for me to be the one to take care of Pheonix’s school stuff. It’s a lot easier for me to run out of a meeting at the State Department if Pheonix gets sick than it is for Lars to get up from the Pentagon, especially because they wouldn’t be able to get in touch with him. And I can do a lot of consulting from home, so it all works out.”

“That sounds like a great system,” Braden said. “Where did you guys move from?”

“We were in a smaller apartment down in Alexandria.” Jay shook his head. “Lars always wanted to have some outdoors space for Pheonix, and I love being near Rock Creek here. I won’t be able to take Pheonix on longer hikes for a while, but it’s nice to spend a day walking around, there. It’s just more space, with an office for me to work out of, and walking distance to a good school… it just all worked out.”

“That’s great.” Braden had that pit in his stomach, now, hearing about this perfect family unit that Braden and Lars and Pheonix had crafted. He’d tried, however inadvertently, to get in the middle of that, crumble it down, and he hadn’t even considered what Lars could be like, that he was hard-working and just wanted a yard for his kid. He’d never really spared a thought to what Lars was like, except for “better than Braden.”

“I hope I get to meet Lars soon,” Braden said, the honest words like black tar in his mouth. “He sounds great.”

“He really is,” Jay replied, knocking back more beer. “He’s… great. He’s going to be at the parent-teacher conferences, too.”

“Great,” Braden echoed, sipping more wine. One more week until he met Lars, had to look this seemingly wonderful man in the eyes and not say ‘I tried to hit on your partner and I think he was flirting back but I swear I never meant to so much as chip at your relationship.’

One more week.


	8. Stay Inside That Bubble

Lucas’s parents thanked them as they headed out from their parent teacher conference, holding copies of the flyers for upcoming events that Braden was passing out to the parents. He was glad that this kid was a lot calmer than what Braden had heard of his older brother, over at Nicklas’s middle school. Thankfully, Ryan had passed through most of Bancroft before Braden had come to the school.

He checked the list posted next to the door, and confirmed it when he stuck his head into the hall and saw Jay sitting in the chair next to the door, with a blond man in a suit next to him.

“Hi, Jay,” he said, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible. “And you must be Lars?”

Lars looked up at him and smiled, then stood to offer his hand. “Yes. And you’re the best teacher in history, right?”

Braden laughed, thinking of the award that he had actually put on his fridge. “I guess so. Come on in.”

He ushered them into the classroom and over to Pheonix’s cubby. “I like to start by showing some of the parents that haven’t spent time in our classroom before where things are,” Braden started. “So here is Pheonix’s cubby – it’s definitely one of the neater ones I’ve seen here. He does a good job keeping all his things organized, and getting rid of any trash, and he helps some of the other kids when they get messy, too. There have been a couple instances during playtime when Pheonix will be a little too bossy, or think he’s helping when he’s cleaning up blocks, for example, but the other kids are actually in the middle of a game. He’s doing great at recognizing when he steps over a line, though, and apologizing and making things right.  It’s great emotional maturity for a kid his age.”

“He definitely takes after you,” Jay muttered to Lars, who nudged him in the side.

Braden led them over to Pheonix’s desk. “More of the same – very neat and organized. He likes to clear off everything and clean up his desk when we switch subjects, so I’ve been working on helping him transition to new tasks even if the first one isn’t done or the workbook is still out, but I’m not trying to curb it too much. His instincts for neatness are good, we’re just finding that balance. And he had a lot of fun decorating his name plate – I’m guessing you three do a lot of art at home?”

“Yeah,” Lars said, tracing his fingers over the shaky writing on Pheonix’s name plate. “His mom was an artist, and I guess he inherited some of that, too.”

“That’s great,” Braden replied, because he wasn’t really sure what to say. “He has a lot of fun with any artistic or creative projects we work on. Here, we can sit down at my desk and go through some more of his progress report.”

Braden led them back to the front of the classroom, sitting behind his desk as Jay and Lars took the two chairs in front.

“All his work has been very strong,” Braden started, pulling out the progress report card from a folder on his desk. “He’s one of about ten students that we have using the Phonics B book, which is more advanced. He’s progressing well in math and science as well. His class participation could be stronger, in volunteering answers or coming up to the board, but he doesn’t have problems asking for help or doing his part for the weather and current events boards. It’s most likely a confidence issue. Maybe when you’re helping with homework, if you have him tell you the answers and explain them as well, it will get him into the habit and feel more confident about his answers come class time.”

“He’s a bit of a shy kid sometimes,” Lars replied. “He has no problem with smaller groups, or one-on-one, but once he’s in a larger group…”

“That’s perfectly normal,” Braden assured him. “It just takes some practice to build those skills. I’m sure he’ll get there. And I’ll let you two know if he’s regressing at all, or any issues pop up with that.

“There is something else I wanted to bring up – related to the neatness.”

Lars and Jay both looked at him expectantly. Braden straightened the stack of flyers in front of him.

“It might be a good idea to look more into OCD in children.”

“OCD?” Lars asked. “Obsessive Compulsive Disorder?”

“It comes down to brain chemistry,” Braden explained, “And it can manifest early. It’s just some of the things he’s been saying lately, about needing to do things a certain way, keeping everything clean, one way to cross the playground being lucky and the other isn’t, avoiding all the blue floor tiles. He doesn’t get into any of the obsessive thoughts that could be driving the behavior, but it stuck out enough that I looked into it, before bringing this up, and that’s usually what you’ll observe as their symptoms start to manifest.

“I’m not a psychologist or a doctor, but it could be worth checking up on. I don’t think it’s hindering him much, but it could start to as he gets older, and we have some great functional therapists in the district that could help work through some of the behavior, if you chose or a doctor recommends it. Just for you to be aware of.”

“Thank you,” Jay said, glancing over at Lars. “He does seem to be a lot cleaner than other kids, and stubborn about the best way to walk home from school, but I hadn’t thought it could be…”

“It tends to be hereditary,” Braden added. “Is there a history of OCD or anxiety for any of his blood relatives?”

Jay looked immediately at Lars, who shrugged. “I’ve had some anxiety issues, mostly in the past. I don’t know about his mom, it never came up in the pre-natal checks.”

“If you used a surrogate, you should be able to contact her or the agency or clinic you used to get a more complete medical history,” Braden said. Lars and Jay looked at him, a little shocked. “My friends have been looking into it – Mr. Laich, the gym teacher, and Mr. Burakovsky, in fifth grade.”

“Oh, well. Good to know,” Lars said. “But it wasn’t a surrogate. It was my college girlfriend, a lapse in judgement. After he was born, she wasn’t ready for a kid, and I decided that even if I wasn’t, I was going to make it work.”

“Oh,” Braden replied faintly. “Okay. If you still have contact, it could help to get that information, but I’m sure it won’t hurt if you can’t. If neither you nor his mother have severe anxiety or OCD, it shouldn’t play too much of a part.”

Lars nodded, looking a little relieved.

“Do either of you have questions about his classroom behaviors or performance before we move on?”

“No, I think you covered it all,” Jay replied, glancing at Lars to confirm.

“Okay, then I just have some forms and flyers for you to fill out. With transferring school districts, there was some paperwork that I think got lost in the shuffle, and some that just need confirmation.” Braden pulled out a set of mint-green papers. “Emergency and medical history forms. We just need a phone number and email for each of you, and your address.”

Lars took it first, carefully filling out Pheonix’s information at the top, and then his section. He passed it back to Jay, who filled out his section as well, before passing it back to Braden. Braden skimmed it quickly, to make sure everything was filled out correctly – and his eyes stuck on the relationship indicator for each of them. Both had marked “single.”

“Uh,” Braden started, pointing out the box. “Just in case you missed it, there is a “Partnered” box, in addition to the married one.”

Lars glanced at Jay, frowning a little. “No, we’re both single.”

Braden blinked, making a conscious move to close his mouth. “Sorry, I just assumed—”

“Nah, this guy’s straight as an arrow,” Jay said, hooking his arm around Lars’s shoulder. “Much to my chagrin in high school.

“And Jay is unfortunately a man,” Lars added, neatly elbowing Jay in the side.

“Okay,” Braden said, still not sure what else he could say to that. He had way too many questions to ask, but they all felt too invasive for a parent-teacher conference. “Uh, and a flyer about some of the activities coming up, and some forms you’ll need to return about the holiday show and holiday absences.”

“Okay,” Lars said, taking them all, somehow oblivious to Braden’s mental breakdown. “We can just send them in with Pheonix?”

“Yeah. Just. With Pheonix.”

“It was great to meet you,” Lars told him, standing and holding out his hand to shake again. Braden shook his hand, standing as well.

“Of course, it was great to meet you. My email and the phone for the classroom here are on that sheet, in case you have questions for me.”

“Thank you,” Lars said.

“Have a nice night,” Jay said, shaking Braden’s hand as well. “I’ll see you tomorrow with the kid.”

“Of course, see you tomorrow,” Braden replied. He led them over to the door, holding it open for them as they left. He checked the sheet again – the Samsonovs, an interesting couple, were next – and peeked into the hallway to check for them.

Jay and Lars were walking down to the stairs, Jay ducking his head like he was embarrassed while Lars nudged him with his shoulder and laughed at him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Samsonov, how are you two doing?” Braden greeted the couple sitting next to the door. “Come on in.”

He’d do what he always did: repress the feelings until he had time to deal with them, until he could get Andre on the phone and figure out what the hell was going on.


	9. And Let Me Pull You Out

“Why am I up so early on a non-school day,” Braden groaned, clutching his cup of coffee from Pear Plum that Andre had had to use to coax him out of the house. “Why were we up so late last night. We’re getting old, Andre.”

“You, maybe,” Andre scoffed, sipping at his latte, a beanie stylishly perched on his head. “Don’t drag me into that.”

Braden groaned again, inhaling the coffee fumes and closing his eyes behind his sunglasses.

It wasn’t even that early – the Mount Pleasant Farmer’s Market didn’t open until 9 on Saturday, so Braden still got to sleep an extra hour or two from when he gets up for school. But he and Andre had gone to Haydee’s last night, and that always ended in a monster hangover.

But Andre insisted that the best produce was gone by 10, so here they were, at 9:15, walking through the booths with Brooks leading their weird dog behind them.

“Babe, lets get some apples,” Brooks said as they stopped at a farm booth.

“And we can’t forget to get some of that bacon for breakfast tomorrow.”

“Maybe I’ll get some spinach,” Braden muttered.

“They have kale, go for that.”

“Kale is weird, Brooks, why would you recommend that?”

“We eat kale like twice a week, babe.”

“It’s still _weird_.”

“I’m going to walk away if you two don’t stop,” Braden announced. Andre laughed and leaned into Brooks, who put an arm around his waist. “That includes the lovey-dovey stuff.”

“Buy more than one veggie,” Andre told Braden, still snuggled up against Brooks. “Broccoli should keep until later in the week. Same with the squash.”

“Sure.” Braden studied the different varieties – most of which he’d never heard of before – and then picked some out to hand over to the stall attendant. “Healthy dinners this week, I guess.”

“I’ll grab some apples,” Andre told them, giving Brooks a quick kiss before darting across to a different stall.

“How does he have this much energy,” Braden muttered. Brooks laughed, grabbing Braden’s coffee for him when he almost dropped in the effort to pick up a cauliflower head.

“I know, young kids these days,” Brooks replied. “It’s nice, though. He’s so excited for everything. Part of why I love him.”

“Well, you _have_ to say that. You’re married to him.”

“Yeah, I am.”

Braden rolled his eyes at Brooks’s grin.

They shuffled forward in line towards the attendant.

“So, any dates from Tinder yet?” Brooks asked.

“No, not really. I’ve tried talking to people, but nothing clicked.”

“It can be tough online,” Brooks replied sympathetically. “If you’re interested in someone, it’s better just to meet them in person.”

“Yeah,” Braden said. In truth, he hadn’t put much effort into his Tinder since parent-teacher conferences. He promised Andre that he would try, and complied with all requests for information on whoever he’s talking to, but how can he focus on some stranger on the internet when he knows that Jay is _single_ now? He still doesn’t know the whole situation – maybe they’re platonic life partners? Maybe Jay is ace, or just not into Braden? – but it’s occupying most of his thoughts.

They made it up to the front of the line, and Braden paid for his vegetables. He got a bag to carry them in, too, so he could take his coffee back from Brooks and take a grateful sip.

“Mr. Holtby! Mr. Holtby!” He heard quick footsteps behind him, then felt a gentle tug on the hem of his jacket.

“I’m murdering your husband,” Braden grit out, then smiled as he turned around to see Pheonix beaming up at him. “Hey, Pheonix! How’re you doing?”

“Good!” Pheonix chirped. “It’s fun to see you not at school!”

“Yeah,” Braden laughed. “Most people think it’s weird when they run into their teachers.”

“Not me, because you’re my favorite—” Pheonix stopped mid-sentence, staring past Braden’s legs. “Mr. Holtby, is that a _dog_?!”

“Yeah, her name’s Harley,” Braden replied.

“I didn’t know you had a _dog_!”

“Actually—”

“Pheonix, I thought we said you can’t run away like that!” Lars called, striding up to them. “You know I worry – Oh! Good morning, Mr. Holtby.”

“Braden’s fine,” Braden replied with a smile. Lars was dressed down in a sweater and jeans for the weekend, Pheonix bundled up in a puffy coat with a hat jammed over his dirty blond hair. “Pheonix was just admiring my friend’s dog.”

“Her name’s Harley,” Pheonix added, looking up at Lars. “Can I pet her?”

“You need to ask Mr. Holtby – it’s his dog.”

“It’s my friend’s, actually,” Braden replied, gesturing back at Brooks, who smiled and waved. Lars got a weirdly pinched look on his face, but it could have been the sun breaking through cloud cover. “I’m sure you can pet her, though.”

“Hi, Mr. Laich!” Pheonix announced. “I’m gonna pet Harley now!”

“Go for it!” Brooks kneeled down next to Harley, helping to hold her still so Pheonix could pet her head. “She loves belly scratches, too.”

When Braden looked back at Lars, he was back to smiling softly. “Mr. Laich – the one married to the fifth grade teacher?”

“Yeah,” Braden replied. “We’ve all been friends for years – I’m apparently the dog’s godfather.”

Lars laughed, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Sure, sure. For a second I was worried you were stringing Jay along.”

Braden’s mouth dropped open. “What—”

“There you are,” Jay panted, emerging from between two of the stalls. “I checked around the outside of the market, I couldn’t spot him—”

“He’s fine, he’s petting a dog,” Lars replied, pointing to where Pheonix was crouching next to Harley with both hands rubbing her stomach.

“Her name’s Harley, Dad!” Pheonix shouted.

Jay grinned. “You know he’s going to beg for a dog for weeks after this.”

“He’ll be fine,” Lars replied. “He knows he needs to wait until he’s old enough to walk it.”

“Good morning, Braden,” Jay said, turning to Braden with a smile. “Nice weekend, right?”

“Yeah, great weather,” Braden replied, still trying to piece his scattered thoughts back together.

His face must have showed it, because Jay glanced at Lars, who shrugged. “I didn’t realize this was the gym teacher that was looking into surrogates,” Lars explained. “I thought Braden might’ve been leading you on.”

Jay’s face burst into flames, a deep blush spreading down to the collar of his jacket. “Lars,” he hissed.

“What?” Lars replied innocently. “I’m going to take Pheonix to buy a hot chocolate, we’ll find you later so we can pick out some bread.”

He joined Pheonix with Brooks and Harley, managing to coax Pheonix away after one last pet of the dog with the promise of chocolate.

“I’ll, uh, find Andre and those apples,” Brooks said, and disappeared as well.

“I’m sorry,” Jay burst out. “I’m not sure where he got the idea that something was going on, I know it wouldn’t be appropriate, I can stop bringing Pheonix to the classroom—”

“Please explain more,” Braden said faintly. “I think I’m missing some early, crucial detail.”

Jay nodded jerkily, gesturing to the low brick wall on the south side of the market. “Can we sit?”

Braden followed him there and sat down, Jay sitting next to him with little more than an inch of space between them.

“I haven’t dated anyone for a while,” Jay started, looking out over the crowd in the market. “What with suddenly agreeing to co-parent a child. And when I met you I was immediately interested, and I told Lars—”

“Sorry,” Braden said, “Back to co-parent – how did that happen? I thought for sure you two were married, or dating, and then the conference…”

“It was pretty much what Lars said.” Jay rubbed his thumb along the seam of his jeans. Braden started to think that was a nervous gesture, and it was a little amazing that he could make someone like Jay _nervous._ “He got his girlfriend pregnant, by the 9 th month she realized she couldn’t have a kid and follow her dreams, and she and Lars weren’t working out relationship wise. But he wanted the kid, so she agreed to sign over parental rights to him, and he agreed not to seek child support from her. She sends a card for his birthday and the holidays, I think, but – not the point. Lars and I were both finishing up grad school, and he was worried about having to move home so his family could help, or trying to pay for a nanny, and we were already roommates, so it just made sense to help him out. We’ve been friends almost our entire lives, and I wanted to do what I could.  I don’t have any legal rights as a parent, but I help take care of Pheonix, getting him to school, providing for him. We all live together, and Pheonix started calling me ‘Dad’ when he learned how to talk. It’s always been me and Lars as his parents, and he knows we’re not together, and I guess Lars will explain everything when he’s older, but… that’s it. I just wanted to help my best friend any way I possibly could.”

“That’s… amazing,” Braden replied. “To do so much for him… I can see Lars’s friendship means a lot to you.”

“I know he would do the same for me,” Jay said seriously. “He sort of did, when my parents kicked me out the summer before college. He let me stay with him, helped me out. I knew that I would do the same for him in a heartbeat. And it’s all setup so that if something were to happen to him, I could adopt Pheonix and keep caring for him.”

“Wow,” Braden breathed. “Yeah, amazing. Okay. Back to what you were saying first.”

“Right.” Jay took a moment to get his thoughts together again. “Right. So, I told Lars about you, and I figured I’d run into you again, or something, and I could take you up on that dinner – but then you were Pheonix’s teacher, and I thought that would be unethical, probably. And then I didn’t see you again for a while. So I thought I might’ve missed my chance, but Lars kept telling me to trust in the process or something, and that everything would work out the way it’s supposed to. So I… did.”

“I was attracted to you, too, when we met that first time,” Braden admitted. “And then you mentioned Lars, and I _swear_ I was so sure you two were together! It was upsetting, and then with Pheonix in my class – it would have been unethical, you’re right, and it was awful, thinking that I’d been flirting with the dad of one of my students, that you had a partner at home that was raising that same kid and I was trying to force my way in—”

“If it makes you feel better,” Jay replied dryly. “Except for that first conversation, I couldn’t even tell if you were attracted to me, until we were talking about Tinder at Marx. You were always professional at school.”

“Thanks,” Braden replied, smiling a little. “I guess it does make me feel better.” Braden glanced over at him, to find Jay was watching him and smiling. “Though what was that whole ‘licking the lips’ thing? You almost gave me a heart attack, made me think I was a homewrecker.”

Jay threw his head back and laughed. “Oh come on! It was nowhere near as bad as you make it sound.”

“Sure,” Braden replied sarcastically.

“So to be completely open,” Jay stated, turning to face Braden fully. “I’m attracted to you. I’m single, and gay, and live with my straight best friend and his son.  Whenever it becomes appropriate, I would like to take you on a date, and be friends until then, and after, if that’s what you want.”

“My turn,” Braden said, and took a deep, steadying breath. “I’m attracted to you. I’m single, too, and gay, and I need someone to remind me to water my plants.” He paused again, studying Jay’s face. “I got out of a three-year relationship over the summer, and I’m not allowed to date parents of my students until the kids are out of my class.”  He smiled, easing the somewhat anxious look on Jay’s face. “I’d like to be friends, and for the rest… ask me again at the end of the year.”

“I can do that,” Jay agreed, holding out a hand to shake. Braden grinned and shook his hand. “If I could interest you in some falafel, I think Pheonix would enjoy getting to say goodbye to his favorite teacher and dog-provider.”

“Sure,” Braden laughed, dropping Jay’s hand as they went to stand. “That sounds great.”


	10. I'll Be Here When You Come Home

The last couple half-days of the year were always equal parts sad and joyful – Braden guessed that’s why they have a word like “bittersweet.”

This year was a little bit heightened on both ends.

Braden did enjoy this class more than most of the ones he’d had. They were mostly well-behaved, and smart, friendly to each other, engaged in learning. It was a miracle for six-year-olds to be like that, and Braden was sure he could teach first grade for 40 more years and never have another class like them.  He loved all of his classes, but this year made it easier than some of the others.

And the other part…

The number of students dwindled as their parents opted to take them out of the last couple days to get a start on vacation, or spend time together. He had sort of figured that Jay and Lars would have taken Pheonix out by now – but Pheonix loved school enough that this probably was his idea of a fun day.

Maybe a small part of Braden had hoped they’d take Pheonix out of school on the earlier side so that he wouldn’t be his teacher anymore, and then…

Every morning, when Jay brought Pheonix to the classroom, he’d smile at Braden and wish him a good day, and the same when he’d pick Pheonix up in the afternoon.

On the last day, it was just Pheonix and Ilya. They played with puzzles, and did the last weather board of the year, and cleaned out their desks. The two kids did some coloring and reading while Braden finished up the year’s report cards, and dropped them off at the office as he led the kids outside for dismissal.

Ilya’s parents were already waiting for him, with a card for Braden. He wished them a happy summer, and gave Ilya a hug when the boy held out his arms, his face scrunched up like he was about to cry.

“Just like the first day, right?” Braden said to Pheonix, leading him over to a bench in the shade of a large oak.

“Can we play chopsticks?” Pheonix asked excitedly.

The already small number of students dwindled, teachers waving to Braden as they headed back inside to clean up their rooms. Pheonix and Braden played chopsticks.

After almost fifteen minutes, Jay hurried up to the school, a canvas bag slung over his shoulder, in a full suit with the tie loosened around his neck.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jay said as he approached, pushing his hair back off his sweaty forehead. “I had a meeting and got lost on the way back.”

Pheonix laughed and jumped up from the bench. “Daddy got lost again!”

“That’s right, buddy.” Jay laughed and held out his hand for Pheonix. “Well, last day of the year, right Pheonix?”

“Yeah!” Pheonix exclaimed. “I was telling Mr. Holtby about how I’m going to camp next week, and then we’re going to visit Grandma in July!”

“It sounds like he’ll be having a lot of fun,” Braden said, standing up from the bench and wiping some of the tree pollen off of his khakis.

Jay nodded. “Definitely. Do you have some fun plans this summer?”

“I’m doing some wilderness camps,” Braden replied. “Some hiking.”

Jay grinned at him, the dimple popping out in his cheek. Even being something like friends for the last 8 months, it didn’t get any less devastating.

“School year’s officially over, huh?” Jay asked, shaking Pheonix’s arm lightly.

“Yeah,” Braden said, his breath catching in his throat.

“Get all your grades in?” Jay asked.

“Dropped them off at the office on the way down.”

“And Mr. Holtby isn’t your teacher anymore, right, Pheonix?”

“Nope!”

Jay’s smile widened, and he reached into his canvas bag to pull out a small bouquet of colorful flowers. “This is really why I was late,” he said, holding them out to Braden. “I needed to stop for them after my meeting, and leaving the store was when I got lost.”

Braden took the flowers carefully, cradling the bouquet in the crook of his arm. “They’re… beautiful.” He couldn’t help but blush, petting a soft chrysanthemum petal with his thumb. He’d never been given flowers before, and the soft, fluttery feeling in his stomach was disconcerting, but he wouldn’t give it up for the world.

“If you’re not busy,” Jay continued, a little hushed. “I’d love to take you to dinner tonight.”

“I would love to,” Braden replied, face cracking in a smile.

“Purple Patch, at 7:30?”

“It’s a date,” Braden said, tightening his hold on the flowers.

 

 

“Don’t tell me,” Andre said dryly when Braden and Jay finally showed up at his and Brooks’s apartment. “You got lost?”

“It was Jay’s fault,” Braden said immediately.

“This is why I’ve told you that I should drive and you should navigate,” Jay told him, curling his arm around Braden’s waist.

“Your driving isn’t any better.”

“Who was it that got the speeding ticket last month?”

Braden refused to answer, instead holding up the big, colorful gift bag he was carrying to present to Andre.

“You know Lars and Pheonix have been here for more than half an hour,” Andre told them.

Braden winced a little. Lars didn’t know Andre and Brooks as well as he and Jay did, and part of the deal with Lars coming to the adoption shower was that Braden and Jay would get here at the same time as him to help ease things along.

“I’m sure Pheonix helped him out,” Jay muttered to Braden, squeezing him a little. “You know how that kid can talk.”

“Yeah, if he wasn’t playing with Harley the whole time.”

“Besides,” Braden said louder, shaking the gift bag pointedly until Andre rolled his eyes and grabbed it. “We had to stop to pick up our _joint_ present.”

“Okay, okay, come on in,” Andre said, holding the door open for them to come into the house. “Remember, Lexi is still shy, so try not to overwhelm her.”

“Of course,” Jay replied with a grin. He at least had experience with toddlers, while kids under six were still complete mysteries to Braden.

Lexi was perched on Brooks’s lap in the living room, her blond hair in cute pigtails on top of her head. She was pawing at a touch-and-learn book that Pheonix was reading to her, sitting at Brooks’s side.

“You got lost?” Lars said as soon as he saw them.

“I blame Braden for having me navigate,” Jay replied immediately.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Braden laughed. “It’s not like Lars lets you drive either.”

Lars shrugged and wisely kept his mouth shut.

“Sorry about leaving you alone here though,” Braden said, patting Lars on the shoulder. “Hope it wasn’t too awkward.”

“Pheonix and I played with Harley,” Lars replied. “It worked out.”

Jay sat down next to Lars, and Braden sat down next to Jay.  As soon as they were both sitting, Jay’s arm came up around Braden’s shoulders, leaning a little closer to him.

“Hi, Braden!” Pheonix chirped, taking a flying leap into Lars’s lap. “Hi, Dad!”

“Hey there,” Braden said, neatening Pheonix’s hair. “Enjoying your time with Lexi?”

“She’s the best!” he exclaimed. “I’m glad they got her instead of getting a stinky baby.”

Jay laughed. “You were a stinky baby once, too, you know.”

Pheonix wrinkled his nose. “But that was _ages_ ago. I’m almost eight now!”

“Of course, you’re a big boy now,” Lars told him. “And you’re going to set a good example for Lexi, right?”

“Of course I will!” Pheonix said adamantly. “I’m going to be the best big cousin!”

Braden smiled, and patted Jay’s knee. “I’m going to grab a drink. Anything for you?”

“You can pick,” Jay told him with an easy smile. He kissed Braden softly. “Thanks.”

Braden flushed and stood up. They’d been together for a little over a year, now, and sometimes that burning, glowing, fluttery feeling in his stomach was still a little too much to handle. But he liked it, he liked Jay, he liked being included in Jay and Lars’s unconventional family, and bringing them into his.

He wandered into the kitchen, pouring a glass of wine for himself and grabbing a beer for Jay. Andre was in there already, setting out a veggie tray.

“Enjoying the summer so far?” Andre asked him, nudging him knowingly.

Braden grinned and took a sip of his drink. He and Jay had just gotten back from a week-long hike to celebrate their anniversary.  It had been amazing – just the two of them in the wilderness, taking in the sights and camping under the stars.

“It was everything I wanted,” Braden replied. “We’re happy to be back in air conditioning, but it was fantastic. We’re planning another one next year, but maybe a little longer.”

“And in a couple years you could probably bring Pheonix on one, right?”

“Yeah, and I think Lars would appreciate his own vacation, too.”

Andre laughed and shook his head. “Yeah, I’m sure he would.”

After a moment of quiet, listening to the excited voices and toddler-babble from the next room, Andre suddenly reached out and pulled Braden into a tight hug.

“I’m so happy everything worked out for you,” Andre said quietly. “I was worried, at the beginning.”

“I know,” Braden replied, blinking away the sting of tears in his eyes. “Thank you for helping me.”

“Any time,” Andre told him. “Anything, ever, at any time.”

“The same for you.”

They hugged a moment longer, and when they separated, neither mentioned the glistening of each other’s eyes.

“I should bring these out to Jay.”

“I promised Brooks some carrot sticks.”

They smiled at each other and went back out into the living room. As soon as they came through the door, Brooks and Jay perked up at different ends of the room, grinning over at them. Andre greeted Brooks with a kiss, and Braden settled down next to Jay on the couch again.

“Hmm, Leinenkugel,” Jay said as he took the bottle. “My favorite.”

“I know,” Braden replied, leaning into his side and the arm Jay put back around his shoulders.

 

 

Braden turned off his alarm after the second snooze with a groan, rolling over in bed and slowly opening his eyes. The sheets on the other side of the bed were mussed up, the pillow half-resting on the bedside table. The curtains were shut, a sliver of sunlight peeking through around the edges.

He tossed off the blankets and slid out of bed, checking the weather on his phone as he padded into the bathroom.

Light on, brush teeth, wet his comb and get his hair into something resembling a neat hairstyle. It was supposed to be warm and sunny today.

He pulled out some khakis and a button down, put them on, and checked in the mirror that there weren’t any wrinkles.  Pulled a pair of oxfords off the shoe rack and slipped them on, then headed downstairs to the kitchen.

As soon as he got to the first floor, he could smell the coffee brewing. A French press sat in the middle of the kitchen table, three mugs next to it, one with a spoonful of sugar already at the bottom.

Jay stood at the stove, dividing a pan of scrambled eggs between four plates that already had bacon and toast on them. He was wearing an apron over his pajamas, and turned to smile at Braden when he came into the kitchen.

“Morning,” Braden said, walking over to the stove and kissing Jay softly.

“Gross,” Pheonix said from the table.

Braden snorted and grabbed two of the plates, Jay carrying over the other two. “That doesn’t sound like someone that wants a delicious breakfast.”

Pheonix, in a bright red polo shirt and jeans, pouted. “I want breakfast. Dad cooked it for me.”

“Maybe he made two plates for me,” Braden said, but he put the plate down in front of Pheonix anyway.

Lars came into the kitchen a moment later, already in his suit, and dropped into his seat at the table just as Braden put down the plate for him.

“Thanks,” he said, pressing the plunger on the French press and pouring out coffee for the three adults.

“No problem,” Braden replied, sitting down and digging into the plate of food Jay put in front of him.

He’d only moved in with Jay, Lars, and Pheonix at the end of the last school year, but this morning routine already felt like he’d been doing it for years.

They ate mostly quietly, Pheonix saying whatever came to his mind and Jay, Lars, and Braden responding and asking him questions.

Lars was the first to get up, kissing Pheonix on the top of his head. “Have a great first day of school, bud.”

“I will, Daddy!” Pheonix replied, grinning up at him. “Have fun at work!”

“I will,” Lars told him. He waved to Jay and Braden, grabbed his briefcase, and headed out the door.

Pheonix helped Braden clear the table, and Jay started the dishes. Braden grabbed his mug to take with him, and Jay glanced over. “Don’t forget the plants.”

Every. Morning. Braden accepted the glass of water from Jay and watered the plants sitting in the kitchen windowsill, growing a lot more than they had before with full sunlight and regular watering.

“Braden! We’re gonna be late!”

“We’ll be fine, Pheonix,” Braden said, but he got moving anyway, stopping at the sink to kiss Jay goodbye.

“Have a nice day, Mr. Holtby,” Jay said with a grin. Braden rolled his eyes, but he smiled, too.

“I will.”

“Bye, Dad!” Pheonix called, already at the front door, backpack and sneakers on, lunchbox in his hand.

“Bye, Jay. I’ll see you later.”

Braden grabbed his bag by the door, shoved his wallet in his pocket, and double-checked he had his phone and charger and keys.

Braden and Pheonix walked the couple of blocks to Bancroft, waving hello to the joggers they knew, and stopping for Pheonix to pet any dogs they encountered.

“You ready for fourth grade?” Braden asked as they got to the front doors.

“Yes!” Pheonix decided. “I’m going to get to learn more science, right?”

“Yeah, you get to learn a _lot_ more science this year. You also get to choose the books you read for class.”

Pheonix grinned up at him. “Fourth grade is the best!”

Braden laughed. “I still think first grade is the best.”

“Well of course you _have_ to.”

Braden laughed again and neatened Pheonix’s hair, from where the wind had knocked it around. “Your teacher is my friend Mr. Latta, remember? Make sure you’re good for him, and he’ll tell you all about when he lived in China.”

“I can just ask him next time we’re all at Mr. Burakovsky’s though.”

“You should still be good for him in class.”

“I know, I will be.”

“I know you will be.” Braden gave Pheonix a quick hug. “Go to class. I’ll see you at dismissal.”

“Okay!” Pheonix said. “It’s going to be fun walking home with you every day!”

“It will be,” Braden promised. “Have fun in class.”

Pheonix grinned at him again and turned to hurry to his fourth grade classroom. Braden went the other way, up the stairs to his classroom. He paused in the doorway, turning on the lights to the room. It was still setup the same as it was three years ago – the weather board, and the current events board, the reading nook and the cubbies. He walked over to his desk, putting his bag and his coffee down. Maybe it was him that was different.

Andre poked his head into the room. “Hey – before the kiddies get here – we still going to that jewelry store on Saturday?”

Braden thought of the careful, incognito searches while Jay was at meetings, looking at different bands and styles. “Yeah.”

Andre smiled. “Ready for another year?”

Braden grinned back, leaning on the corner of his desk. “Always.”


End file.
